


Do It Like They Do In The Animes

by oncewewerezombies



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Alien/Human Relationships, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society (Homestuck), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Anime Tropes, Banter, Cherubs (Homestuck), Dating, Established Relationship, Karaoke, Kissing, M/M, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Slice of Life, depraved displays of handholding, jeering, they're both fucking weebs, too much tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/pseuds/oncewewerezombies
Summary: undyingUmbrage [uu] began jeering timaeusTestified [TT]uu: HELLO DIRK.uu: GuESS WHAT I WANT TO PLAY.uu: THAT'S RIGHT.uu: A GAME.
Relationships: Caliborn/Dirk Strider
Comments: 14
Kudos: 57
Collections: April 2020 - Titles I'll Never Use





	Do It Like They Do In The Animes

undyingUmbrage [uu] began jeering timaeusTestified [TT]

uu: DIRK.  
uu: DIRK. YOu WILL ANSWER MY JEERING IMMEDIATELY.  
uu: I HAVE HAD AN IDEA.  
TT: An idea huh? That sounds intriguing, but I will remind you that we live in the same house and you could have come down to talk to me.  
TT: I'm not doing anything besides fucking around in the basement.  
uu: NO.  
uu: I WILL DISCuSS THIS WITH YOu IN THE FORMAT I WANT TO DISCuSS IT.  
uu: THAT IS NOT uP FOR. ANY KIND OF DEBATE.  
uu: NOW SHuT uP AND LISTEN TO ME.  
TT: Sir, yes sir, shutting up, sir.  
uu: YOu ARE NOT AS FuNNY AS YOu THINK YOu ARE. SOMETIMES.  
TT: I'm god damn hilarious and you know it, but tell me your idea.  
uu: AS I *WAS SAYING*, BEFORE YOuR RuDE INTERRuPTION. I HAVE AN IDEA.  
uu: FOR SOMETHING FOR uS TO DO.  
uu: AS A.  
uu: "DATE".  
TT: Oh? I'm listening.  
uu: YES. YOu WILL LOVE AND ADORE THIS IDEA.  
uu: IT IS SO *FuCKING* TENDER.  
uu: I WAS WATCHING ORE MONOGATARI!!. AND OTHER SENTIMENTAL TRASH VIDEOS OF THAT ILK.  
uu: AND I BELIEVE THAT I CAN SET uP A ROMANTICALLY FuLFILLING AND DELICIOuSLY PERVERSE "DATE" IDEA. FOR uS TO GO ON.  
TT: You know I'm down.   
uu: OF COuRSE YOu ARE. YOu ARE A FuCKING PERVERT. AND I WILL BE CATERING TO YOuR INHERENT DECADENT HuMAN NEED FOR AFFECTION. AND ROMANTIC LOVING GESTuRES.  
uu: BECAuSE I AM WORKING DILIGENTLY TO ENSuRE THAT I AM THE BEST PARTNER YOu HAVE EVER HAD.  
uu: YOu WILL REMAIN IN YOUR LABORATORY uNTIL I INFORM YOu THAT MY EXTENSIVE WORK HAS BEEN COMPLETED.  
TT: Alright.   
uu: GOOD. YOu SHOuLD DO AS YOu ARE TOLD BY ME. THE OBVIOuS "SEME" IN THIS RELATIONSHIP.  
TT: Uh huh.   
TT: I'll just be waiting here and pretending to work on this bullshit robot, quivering with anticipation to see what romantic delights you're whipping up for me.  
TT: I'll also be waiting to be strongly and tenderly embraced by your over sized hands, Caliborn-sama.  
uu: YES. YOu *WILL* WAIT. IT WILL MAKE THE ENSuING "DATE" MORE POIGNANT.  
uu: THE NEXT TIME I JEER YOu, IT WILL BE TO ANNOuNCE THAT EVERYTHING IS READY. AND THAT I AM READY FOR YOu.  
uu: IT WILL BE AMAZING. AND SO FuCKING TENDER, YOu WILL WEEP TEARS OF JOY.  
TT: I am megafucking hyped, my dude.  
uu: YOu COuLDN'T BE ANY OTHER WAY, BECAuSE YOu ARE OBVIOuSLY A SLuT FOR MY AFFECTION. BuT PLEASE DO ATTEMPT TO RESTRAIN YOUR IMPATIENCE.  
uu: GENIuS TAKES TIME TO CRAFT.   
TT: I'll work to keep my chill, while still quivering with anticipation.   
uu: YES. GOOD.  
uu: ALRIGHT.  
uu: I'M GOING NOW. TO WORK MY GENIuS.  
TT: Talk to you soon, babe.  
uu: SHuT *uP*, DIRK, YOu FuCKING TOOL.

undyingUmbrage [uu] ceased jeering timaeusTestified [TT]

You have been working to obtain the supplies for this surprise 'date' for Dirk for some time now. It is only now that you have acquired an adequate amount of resources, and you are ready to roll out your magnificently crafted plan to woo him. And ensure that he continues to realise how much of a better partner you are, than any human he could attempt to relate to. You are, in fact, a _literal genius_ at this kind of romantic bullshittery. You made it sound like it was a whim, but you are cunning like that. Both the preparation and your research into human mating customs have been extensive, and excruciatingly detailed. Sometimes you had to pause the animes you had been watching to take a moment to breathe and regain your composure, they have been so revoltingly tender and soft. It is often hard work to keep Dirk entertained but you find that the pay-off is worth it.

Some corner of your mind is concerned that you have potentially made the surprise date seem much bigger and more glamorous than it is, but you ruthlessly quash that small inner voice of doubt. It is a remnant of your conniving shrew of a sister and you hate that bitch, so you will allow her no more room to bring you down. Or make you concerned that you are not doing enough. Dirk thinks you are great. And Dirk is a cool enough man dude that he would not be wasting time with someone he thought was inferior.

Obviously, you are the best 'boy friend' that he could have. 

No one else could possibly compare to you, an alpha male cherub in his _prime_. You are simply the best there is. But especially in the field of human romance. You work much harder at it than most humans; you are certain of that. Cursing and grumbling to yourself at substandard building materials, you carefully and as quietly as you can, hammer in small picture hooks along the frame of the door. And in all other places, where they will display the strings of fairylights that you bought to their best advantage. You have also purchased a disco ball. With great feats of bravery, you have managed to attach it to the main light fitting. From your many online viewings of karaoke rooms, it is compulsory to have different sorts of light. In order to promote the right 'party atmosphere'. A disco ball is a _must_ , and that is why you have procured one. For Dirk. Because he is worth it.

Buying a karaoke game for the Prey Station 4 was not even close to the amount of effort you have put into everything else. Hiding things from Dirk until you actually had everything in grip has been a trial. But one that, you think, will be worth it in the end. To see the look on his face when he enters the room and understands the efforts you have gone to, in order to display your mating affections for him. Once you have fixed the strings of twinkling lights up in their right and proper places, you turn the main lights off and the new bullshit romance lights on, to survey your handiwork. It looks. Fucking amazing, if you do say so yourself. And you do, because it is.

In so many areas, you are simply gifted beyond all reason. It must be unfair to everyone else, that they are not as great as you. They will simply have to continue suffering in their sub par lives, not knowing what they are missing out on by not being you, Caliborn.

You move the furniture around with a little grunt of effort, so the couch is in the best place to view someone in front of the television when they are performing their song of choice. As you and Dirk soon will be. With ruthless determination, you quell the nervous flutterings in your stomach and continue to prepare. New cushions, plumped to be displayed to their best advantage. Food preparation is the next step, once you have arranged the room. It is simply in the interests of time that you have selected easier dishes, as well as items you can prepare from packets. Obviously, if you had more time and a better kitchen, you could prepare a gourmet meal as easily as any professional chef. It is just that you have certain restrictions on your time, and your equipment is not the best. 

Frying the chicken and tempura vegetables almost brings you to disaster, but you persevere. In the end, you are proud of your product and take a few moments to use the tips of your claws to display everything to the best advantage in their dishes. Lining up gyoza on a tray takes moments once you remove them from the oven, and then you simply have to convey everything to the low length of the coffee table. A minimal (extensive) amount of fussing later, and you think you're done. There are other surprises in store, for Dirk, but they will have to wait for their proper time. Games are all about timing. Along with the food, you have also provided Dirk with bottles of the German wheat beer he prefers in a tub of ice, and you have added your superior tasting high sugar premix drinks for your own delectation. As well as a bowl of spicy sugar for you to dip your food into. 

Looking around, you can't imagine anything you could have forgotten. It looks, as you expected, stupendously amazing. Dirk will be thrilled, and also enamoured of you. Which is the point. 

He is already enamoured of you, but you want to re-enforce the point that he is. To him. Just to make sure. He will not be aware of the deeper meanings behind your gesture, but you know what they are. You are a master at this.

Jabbing at the screen with your fingers, you snarl briefly at the way it is not really set up for someone with claws despite the prevalence of trolls - you are an endangered and exotic species but trolls have claws _as well_ so you think things should be better organised - and you jeer at Dirk. You do not troll him. Obviously. You are of a superior species. Trolling or pestering is beneath you. Jeering is obviously the best form of communication. You hate this stupid phone, even if Dirk has set it up with programs that cater to your superior and exclusive needs. It's just so fucking stupid sometimes, how things don't _quite_ work properly for you and the way you do things.

undyingUmbrage [uu] began jeering timaeusTestified [TT]

uu: ARE YOu READY FOR THE WOOING OF A LIFETIME?  
uu: YOu SHOuLD HAVE READIED YOuR BODY FOR THIS. YOu HAVE BEEN WARNED.  
TT: You did warn me and I have made an effort to prepare my body.  
TT: Can I come upstairs now, senpai?  
uu: YOu ARE ATTEMPTING TO PROVOKE ME, AND IT WILL NOT WORK.  
uu: BuT IT IS TIME FOR YOu TO COME uPSTAIRS TO THE REPuRPOSED LIVING ROOM. TO DISCOVER THE DELIGHTFuL ARRAY OF DATING EXPERTISE I AM ABLE TO LAY BEFORE YOu.  
uu: DuE TO MY EXTENSIVE RESEARCH INTO THE AREA OF "HuMAN ROMANCE".   
uu: I HAVE DONE THIS BECAuSE I AM A THOuGHTFUL AND "LOVING" BOY FRIEND. YOu WILL PERFORM APPROPRIATE RITuALS OF APPRECIATION FOR MY EFFORTS NOW, AS IS MY DuE.   
TT: Oh my, Caliborn-sama.   
TT: You are the master of human romance. I bow before your superior alpha male ways.  
uu: YES. CONTINuE. THIS PLEASES ME.  
TT: Yeah, I am totally blown away by your manly ways, dude. So can I come upstairs yet?  
uu: THE FOOD IS GETTING COLD, SO I SuPPOSE YOu CAN CONTINuE TO GENuFLECT IN PERSON.   
TT: Fuck yeah, food. Alright, I'm just going to turn off my tools and I'll be right up.  
uu: YESSSS.  
uu: THIS IS ALL WORKING OuT EXACTLY ACCORDING TO MY CuNNING PLAN AND CONTINuES TO ILLuSTRATE HOW MuCH OF A FuCKING GENIuS I AM. HuRRY uP.

undyingUmbrage [uu] ceased jeering timaeusTestified [TT]

Closing the chat window, you push back from your workbench and stretch your arms over your head, phone held tightly in one hand. Your name is Dirk Strider, you build robots and fix tech for a living, and your boyfriend is a fucking tsundere. While tsundere dudes may be a dime a dozen, cherubs are a little more hard to come by. You have met exactly two in your life, and you're dating one of them. You've had a few romantic significant others before, et cetera - as a young man will - but the intense focus Caliborn brings to your relationship is really something else.

Staying down here while Caliborn did whatever the fuck he was doing upstairs to your mutual living room had been easy enough. You have plenty of work laying around, just waiting for your skilled hand to land on it. With a pop of relieved tension cracking in your spine, you finish stretching and stand up, doing a quick check of your tools to make sure you've turned off, say, the soldering iron and won't be interrupted on your date by the inconvenience of an impending housefire. The only sick fires allowed in this house are the ones started by your strong rap game. 

Making your way up the stairs, you take a moment when you reach the top to admire the kaleidoscopic pops of multicoloured lights spilling out into the hallway from the open living room door. That's cool. You're not sure what alerts Caliborn to the fact that you've emerged, but the stomp of his footsteps coming to meet you are clear. Dude never can do anything quietly, it's one of his more endearing traits. 

"Dirk. You have arrived," he announces, like maybe you might actually forget that you're outside your own living room and waiting for your date with your boyfriend to start. You lift an eyebrow, looking down at him and he scowls back. You can tell that he's barely keeping himself from fiddling with one of the straps of his suspenders, and damn, he's really dressed up for this. Makes you wish that you'd had more warning so you'd like, had a shower and dressed in something nicer than your working gear of black tank and loose cargos. The shades and gloves go without saying, of course, you'd be wearing them no matter what else you were fucking wearing. But Caliborn? He's looking pretty fucking swank, with a nice shirt, the bedazzled suspenders and a crisp bowtie. 

"I feel under dressed," you feel like you need to say and he just scowls harder, before grabbing your hand in his. The amount of strength in that cool scaly grip is something you really need to experience to believe. Everyone 'knows' cherubs are pretty much indestructible unless they're fighting each other - or say, a nuke - but they never really think about what that means. In the day to day. 

"You look exactly how I want you to look. So shut up. Now. Close your stupid eyes until I tell you to open them. I will know if you peek. Do not think of disobeying me as an option."

"Alright, no problem, babe," you say, mostly because you missed the chance to see how the spirals in his cheeks flare crimson when you called him babe in the chat before. He always looks simultaneously mortified, enraged and adoring in equal amounts when you do. Usually, you don't actually say it that often - you don't want it to lose its impact. He spits a little hissy snarl out of the corner of his mouth at you, and then pulls on your hand roughly, the claw on his thumb pricking your wrist. 

"Close your fucking eyes already." 

"They're closed. Absolutely one hundred per cent shut. Where am I going? I don't know, I'll have to depend on my highly masculine and aesthetically pleasing boyfriend to lead me. How _sensual_." You squeeze his hand as he splutters, and then you get to enjoy him cursing under his breath at you as he pulls you towards the living room. That's where you guess he's taking you, since he was talking about how it was where he set up everything for this date. The one that's going to blow your mind. You carefully step after him, trusting Caliborn not to let you walk into anything and then you stop. The urge to open your eyes is increasingly strong, but you just breathe and concentrate on the feel of his hand in yours. You don't need to be in control now. Caliborn has this shit on lock, and it's his surprise, so you're not going to fuck it up with your shitty trust issues.

"Alright. You can open your eyes now." His voice is surly and argumentative, like he's already expecting you to shit on whatever he's put up and spent so much time and effort on as soon as you see what it is. That's an unfortunate by-product of the way he was raised, and you try not to take it personally when he acts like this. When everyone tells you that you're a terrible person for long enough, you stop expecting others to approve of what you're doing or validate you in any way. And you kinda start expect to be at least mocked for your interests and efforts on top of that. You both have problems. Everyone has problems. It's something that you're working through, together. "You will feast your eyes on this romantic gesture that I have devised. And despair that your puny human brain will never be able to think of anything to match it."

"...holy shit, wow."

When you open your eyes, you were kind of expecting...well, you don't know actually. Rose petals and white candles. Flutes of champagne. Some Cosmo-blended nightmare fuel of compulsory heterosexuality that you'd have to enjoy ironically, if you enjoyed it at all. What you get, is something completely different and you are honest to God kind of choked up about it. It's obviously meant to be as close to a karaoke room as he can get in the house with minimal funds, and you are pitching an ironic tent in your god damn pants over the fucking _disco globe_. 

"Hmph. You are awestruck by my magnificent handiwork, as you should be."

"You bet your sweet ass I am." You reach out again, since he'd let your hand drop and take it back, squeezing firmly. You think you're probably the only person who would have caught that little nervous catch of breath, and you'd be the only one who would have expected it. "So what else you got for me?"

"I have procured refreshment besides, the entertainment we will mutually provide to each other. Through the avenue of song." He puffs his chest up and it is the cutest fucking thing you've seen. You've always had a thing for defensive arrogance faked as real confidence, what can you say. But, Caliborn is the one who would have thought of doing something like this, and that's why he's a keeper. "You will sit and partake of the fruits of my labour, while I demonstrate my superior vocal skills and rhythmic abilities."

"Sure. But I gotta say, I don't know how many times my socks are going to survive been blown right off my feet and outta my shoes. Feel free to some mercy on me, will you?" you say as flat as you can manage as you let go of his hand, and he gives you a victorious little smirk that really highlights his gold fang. Old history, that. Bit off a bit more than he could chew, but that was the only lasting reminder of the whole effort. He never wants to talk about it much and you're chill with that - there's stuff he doesn't know about you either. Since you're not a fan of him prying into your shit, you've managed the heroic effort of not giving into your impulses and investigating everything that you can about his life. You probably know more than he wants anyway. There's a certain amount of notoriety that he's gained, just from being what he is. You're not even touching on who he is, as a personality.

"Prepare to have them further blown, as you see what I have procured because you are a useless fucking piece of weeb trash. I know what _obscene filth_ delights you," he sneers, and you drop yourself into the embrace of your busted couch as you watch him strut to turn the screen on, flashing into illuminated life with lines of kanji in cutesy font and with an upbeat j-pop-style melody playing. Holy shit, you know those titles. Some of them anyway - but what serious weeb isn't going to recognise the kanji for Pegasus Fantasy. 

"Are you serious?" you say, already reaching for one of the pieces of fried something that he has out on a platter with a little bowl of dipping sauce. Damn, he's thought of everything. There's even a bottle opener chilling near the beer bucket, just waiting for you to take an ice cold brew out. And you'd thought you were out - Caliborn must have been keeping some tucked away just for this. You are, to put it mildly, in fucking love with this miniature tank of a raging green gremlin. 

"I am always serious, Dirk. You know how I feel about games, and the nature of the competition between us," he says seriously as he tabs through the list of song titles to make his selection. "Prepare to meet your melodic doom, lowly human." That gold fang flashes at you in a smirk again, as he lifts the microphone that's plugged into the Prey Station and reaches out with his other hand. His foot taps as the first opening chords of Moonlight Densetsu chime their 80s nostalgia driven way through the stereosystem and you sink back into the couch more, filled with a terrible sense of fuckor mixed with delight.

This asshole. No one should know you this well.

It's early in the morning by the time you've both eaten everything and sung all the songs on the anime version of Karaoke Revolution that Caliborn has found on the internet. And drunk all the alcohol that'd been in the bucket. You're not drunk-drunk, but you sure are fucking buzzed. It's a good feeling. This time you're both curled up on the couch, and he traces his claws over your chest until he splays his hand out over your heart. Beating slow and deep behind the cage of your rib bones.

"I could eat this, and then you would never leave me. You'd always be a part of me." He stares at where his green scaled fingers are spread over the sweat-stained fabric of your shirt, and then leans up to kiss you. Fork-tongue flicking against your teeth and then sinuously twining around your own slab of lingual muscle. Frenching a cherub takes practice, and it's been a skill you've been glad to acquire. His mouth tastes like grease and sugar, with a hit of chilli that makes your lips tingle. Then burn with the fire of a thousand fucking suns, god damn it. You pull back and bury your reddening, sweating face against his shoulder as he cackles with delight. Damn it. "You are! So _weak, Dirk Strider!_ "

"Weak? Sure, but weak for you," you say as suavely as you can and watch his eyes widen outrageously, pop-eyed in his craggy and skull-shaped face as the spirals in his cheeks just burn bright. They're always kinda there, but when he gets embarrassed or overwhelmed, they get exceedingly obvious. It's a tell that he has never been able to get a handle on, and you're kind of glad he hasn't because honestly? You think it's cute as fuck. 

"Shut up! Just - shut your hideous human mouth, filled with relentless blatherings of tender sentimentality!" He pushes the palm of his hand roughly against your mouth like it's going to make you shut up, and you lick his palm. Moistly, and with extra saliva. Unlike most people probably would, he just hisses and presses his palm down harder like he's going to suffocate you, staring daggers into your eyes. Dragging the tip of your tongue up and ignoring the sting of Carolina Reaper powder that makes your eyes water, you slide it between the gap in his fingers and just. Wiggle it gently. He makes a choking sound, venomously red eyes staring you down but you continue to lick and suck on his rough skin until he pulls his hand away, and his whole body with a huffy little grunt. "I hate you."

"Love you too, pumpkin," you hum, and discreetly wipe your mouth off against the inner part of your forearm. God damn. He'd really upped the chilli quotient on that bowl. Fuck. Your mouth is going to be tingling for hours. But hopefully not longer than that. Caliborn has a much higher resilience against this shit, which is why you assume he'd had his own bowl of pain-sugar. It just hadn't kept you from getting infiltrated with it, despite his best efforts. Guess that's just one of the hazards of dating someone who seems to be trying to commit suicide via edible but highly volatile amounts of capsaicin . 

Maybe you should suggest he just sprays his food with pepper spray next time - wait, no, scratch that shit because he just might and you don't need that in your life.

"I _utterly detest_ pumpkins, Dirk, and you know that." Despite Caliborn's gruff and disgusted tone, he kisses you and things pleasantly blur out for a while. Shifting a little, you breathe out deeply and rub your hand over the back of his bare head, feeling the faint burr of his cranial scales against the palm of your hand. 

"But you don't detest a tub of Ben and Jerry's, and I know we've got at least half a pint of Phish Food in the freezer," you say coyly and with purpose, and slither your way out from underneath the vaguely lukewarm heap of boyfriend you're pinned down by. Without putting your chilli-infected hands down your pants, you adjust your latent boner to lie more comfortably in the confines of your underwear and make your way into the kitchen to grab the ice-cream from the freezer and a couple of spoons. Dessert sounds like a good way to finish off the date to you. You both fall asleep on the couch once you've relocated the ice-cream to your stomachs, and it's good. The clean up is waiting in the morning, but it's whatever. 

You fucking loved the shit out of your karaoke date, a staple of all slice of life animes worthy of the name.

Now you just have to think of a way to return the favour.

It'll come to you. You study Caliborn during the course of your relationship just as intensely as he's studying you. That's what love is really about, isn't it. Picking each other apart to make a house of their bones. It's domestic as fuck at the core, really. He _gets_ you on a visceral level, and it's all you ever fucking wanted.


End file.
